


And blood on his

by Toinette93



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gen, Not Beta Read, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:47:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27188855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toinette93/pseuds/Toinette93
Summary: "I didn't wanna kill him, Jon. But he was gonna kill ya and I couldn't let him. I wish I coulda stunned him Cap'n, I…"The possibility he might have to kill to save his ship mates is part of what Malcolm expects from his job. Trip, as an engineer, never thought he would have to. Never thought about it, really. What happens when he does?This is a direct answer to volley's Blood on my Hands. It stands on its own (the link is thematic not plot-related, not that there is much plot here to be honest), but come on, go read volley's story, it's really a lot better than this one.
Relationships: Jonathan Archer & Charles "Trip" Tucker III, Malcolm Reed & Charles "Trip" Tucker III
Comments: 7
Kudos: 20





	And blood on his

**Author's Note:**

  * For [volley](https://archiveofourown.org/users/volley/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Blood on my Hands](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27102721) by [volley](https://archiveofourown.org/users/volley/pseuds/volley). 



Malcolm was running and cursing. The captain and the chief engineer, Archer and Trip, had gone to this meeting without him, without any security backup, against his express recommendations, leaving him at the shuttlepod. Then they'd called for help and all contact had been lost. The last noises from the transmission had not been encouraging either, they were apparently under attack. At least it wasn't far. This lackadaisical approach to security was really going to get them killed someday. Or him. From the sheer stress.

He reached an opening in the vegetation, the pile of rock where their meeting with one of the local species was supposed to take place. Malcolm slowed down, phase pistol in hand, looking for any sign of danger. That damn place looked like the ideal location for an ambush. At least there seemed to be no trace of any hostiles. Malcolm walked over another boulder. Then there was a dark green liquid, all over the place, and a somewhat unfamiliar metallic smell. Vulcan blood, the part of his brain that had seen T'Pol injured before supplied. But… she wasn't on the landing party? And the colour wasn't quite right, anyway. Pushing down on the queasiness in his stomach he took a closer look. There was a grotesquely splayed around body on the floor, an alien body, probably from the local inhabitants, with a hole on what must have been his neck. Very obviously dead and the probable source of the blood.

He kept on going, and then there was Trip, covered in green blood, trying unsuccessfully to get a piece of rock to move, and who hadn't noticed Malcolm's presence. The security officer took a last look around, put his phaser back in his pocket and kneeled down next to the chief engineer. Still no reaction from the other man. He put a hand on his shoulder, trying to stop him from pulling at the rock. There was no sign of Archer.

"Trip. It's me, Malcolm. What are you doing?"

Trip got his arm out of Malcolm's grip, visibly intent to keep on doing what he was doing, despite his obvious lack of success.

"The captain." He said. "He's behind that rock. He's stuck."

Malcolm took a closer look at the rock face and noticed that one piece of it probably could move. Though there was no way one person could do it alone. His communicator beeped.

"Reed here."

"Five alien life signs closing in on your position, sir."

Shit, Malcolm thought but he did not say it. Instead he asked:

"How long do we have?"

"Fifteen minutes if they keep on going at the same pace" answered Hoshi's voice " but they might cut your route to the shuttlepod in ten."

"Roger that. I found the Commander and the Captain. The commander doesn’t appear to be severly injured, I haven’t been able to ascertain the captain’s condition yet. I'm getting them back to the ship. Reed out."

Steeling himself he moved to the other side of Trip. Their readings had said two human life signs and Hoshi would have told him if that had changed. So the Captain must indeed be here. And they had very little time to get him out. What had been impossible for Trip alone turned out to be doable once they combined their forces and the rock started to move, slowly.

"Are you injured, Commander?" Asked Malcolm. Under all the green blood he had not seen any red one, but it was hard to tell.

Trip shook his head. Then, straining from the effort added.

"We had finished talking with the representative of these people, he'd left and we were about to do the same, and then he got a jump on us. I pushed Jon away, the rock face musta closed down on him, and then…"

Trip's voice stopped there unable to get another sentence out. Malcolm sent him a worried look, but he had his hands full. At that moment, the rock finally gave way, and Archer got out. From what Malcolm could tell, he wasn't injured.

"Lieutenant, report" and then, taking in his chief engineer appearance "Trip, are you ok?"

  
Malcolm didn't hear Trip's mumbled response. He knew, however, that they had barely five minutes to get back to the shuttlepod.

"Respectfully, sir, we need to move, now. According to Ensign Sato, there are more of these aliens moving in on our position, and I for one would rather not be there when they arrive"

"You're right, lieutenant" answered Archer from his position at Trip's side. "Come on, let's go" he said, taking Trip's arm.

Malcolm took point and they ran towards the shuttlepod, Archer's hand never leaving Trip's arm. It wasn't far but soon there were aliens in pursuit, and their hostility made very little doubt from the stray shots that buzzed at their ears. Malcolm was thankful that, for once, Archer did not try to make friends with them even as they were trying to kill them. Maybe he had learnt something after all.

They shooting was getting worrying close, but they were at the shuttlepod door. Malcolm got it open, pushed his commanding officers inside and then climbed in, closing the door behind him. Archer was already at the helm, starting the engines, and Trip was slumped on his own seat behind him. Malcolm took the co-pilot seat, and contacted the ship to tell them they were on their way.

"They have launched ships to intercept, sir." Hoshi informed them. "You really need to get back to Enterprise"

“How fast?” asked Archer

“Probably not a match once we’re out of atmosphere” answered Malcolm, looking at the data Hoshi was feeding them.

“But we better get a move on until then” completed Archer

“Yes, sir. And their armament are nothing to laugh at either.”

“Well, buckle in, this might be a bit of a rough ride.”

The shuttle took off, the enemy vessels only a blip on sensors, and Archer's efficient piloting made sure it would not get any worse than that. That mission was a disaster, and now they really needed to get out of there. Soon they were in space, almost on Enterprise, too far away for the native ships to catch up with them. Malcolm turned toward Trip, who was still unmoving and silent on his chair. Archer had apparently had the same idea. He asked:

"Trip…" Malcolm didn't think he could have quite described the amount of concern in that single

word. The engineer must have felt it. He shook his head:

"I'm alright Cap'n. It's just… there was so much blood. I didn't wanna kill him, Jon. But he was gonna kill ya and I couldn't let him. I wish I coulda stunned him Cap'n, I…"

"I know, Trip, there was nothing else you could have done."

Then they were interrupted by the docking procedure on the Enterprise. They got out of their uniform to get into decon. Getting out of uniform was a blessing. Malcolm took Trip's and Archer's from the floor, putting them in the bin to be recycled. Without his body covered in green blood, Trip looked more human, more like himself, and they could confirm there were no wounds, none of his own blood seeping through unnoticed.

The blood was still on his hands, and face and hair, though Malcolm, passed the gel and them some soap, warm water and a towel to Archer, who'd asked for them. Trip had used the gel, but was still sitting silently, looking directly in front of him, so unlike his usual self that the armoury officer was getting quite worried for his shipmate. Although he supposed being covered in someone else's blood would do that to you, well, the down from the adrenaline itself would. He stayed on his side of the chamber, unsure there was anything he could do. Unsure the presence of another killer was what Trip needed right now. He would have given him privacy but this was decon and far too small for that.

He saw Archer who had been Trip's friend long before he'd become his captain, who maybe had even done something similar before in some night of drunkenness, take the warm towel and gently, almost reverently, wash the blood away from the engineer. Archer started with the hands, then once they were clean, he took another piece of cloth and calmly dabbed at Trip's face, getting the worse of the grime off of him.

There was something intimate in the gesture, something a family member would have done for a child, and Malcolm looked away, but his captain asked him for supplies and he obeyed. Trip groaned a few times that he wasn't a kid but let Archer do it. The captain stopped short at washing Trip's hair, leaving his hand on his chief engineer's shoulder as a show of support.  
Seeing Trip sit a little straighter and pick up the water to roughly clean his own hair, Malcolm thought there might be some good in Archer's unusual command style, at least as result went, even if he'd rather he had not seen this. It felt like an intrusion, somehow.

Phlox let them out of decon not long after, and having patched up the few bruises they had accumulated, released them to quarters for the day.

"Take two days off, Trip" added Archer. 

"Jon, I'm alright" groused the engineer.

"That's an order, Commander"

“Aye, aye, cap'n”

There was frustration and a hint of irony in the engineer's voice, the eye roll was audible, still, there was no doubt the order would be obeyed.

* * *

The next day, after his shift, Malcolm decided to go visit Trip, see how he was doing. Trip had done the same on similar occasions when the roles had been reversed, and it only seemed proper to return the courtesy. After a moment of hesitation, Malcolm decided to indulge his shipmate's sweet tooth in the circumstances and grabbed the glass of milk Trip seemed to enjoy from the mess hall, getting himself some tea, and bringing from his quarters some of the very last of the shortbread he had brought all the way from Earth. His aunt Sherrie had insisted on it.

He was worried about the Commander, if he was honest with himself. Even in self defence, he had killed someone, in a gruesome manner and he was no soldier. Nothing in his Starfleet engineering training would have prepared him for that, not that anything really could.

Malcolm thought back on the first time he knew for sure he had killed someone, from far away, a button on a tactical console, and yet, terribly real nonetheless. It hadn't been the last, and even that hadn't prepared him either for the first time he killed someone he saw face to face. These instances had been extremely rare, blessed be the stun setting on their phase-pistols, and they had never rested easy with him, not that they ever should. It was part of his duty, he had killed to protect others – and he would not think back on that one time in the section, when the goals hadn't been that clear, because by the most undeserved of luck, that one hadn't died. He had known when taking the job that it was a part of it, one he had made if not peace at least a sort of truce with. Malcolm was pretty sure the Commander had not seen the possibility of having to kill someone as part of the deal. Risking his own life, giving orders that could risk somebody else's maybe even cause others harm, maybe, but not the gruesome reality of seeing someone die from a wound you were directly responsible for. Malcolm really had no idea how the Commander, how Trip with his sometimes child-like innocence would react to that.

He also felt that while the captain, who was also Trip's friend, would be there for him, he had a responsibility, as the expert on board on these questions, the only other one as far as he knew who had taken a life before in such a way. He could only hope the Commander would not look down in disgust at someone who'd chosen a profession that meant having to kill. He was at the door.

"Come on in" Trip answered

Malcolm entered, and putting forth the drinks and shortbread said:

"I come bearing gifts, commander"

"Oh, Malcolm, thanks, siddown"

Trip vaguely gestured in the direction of the chair. He'd been looking at a padd which he put down. Malcolm sat down, his back straight, almost at attention. They ate. Neither said anything for a bit. The very compact nature of the shortbread helped to render the silence less awkward.

  
"It's nice to bring me those, lieutenant, I had missed that in the mess hall earlier, they're quite good."

"Oh, they're not… They're from home."

At that Trip looked sharply back at him.

"I just wanted to make sure you were all right, Commander."

Trip's tone was angry when he answered.

"I'm fine, Malcolm. Why does everybody think I'm gonna break under pressure? This guy attacked the cap'n, what was I supposed to do, let him do it? And for the last freaking time, Malcolm, It's Trip. You're in my quarters bringing cakes from home for fuck' s sake. I didn't even think you liked cakes. I'm certainly not your commanding officer at the moment."

"No one's saying you did anything wrong, sir. Trip."

The engineer deflated.

"But I did, didn't I? I killed someone, Malcolm. Looked him in the eye and pulled the trigger. And… and I was happy it worked. He was gonna kill us, Malcolm. I…"

Trip turned his head away for a moment. Malcolm looked away too pretending not to see, wishing he knew how to just hold someone through something like this.

Trip looked back at him, eyes glistening from unshed tears that neither men acknowledged.

"How… how do you do it Malcolm? How do you…? As an armoury officer… Do you get used to…"  
  


There was cruelty in the question, the almost accusation that Malcolm didn't quite feel enough if he could do that job, but the lieutenant knew it wasn't meant that way, the desperation in Trip's eyes was proof of that. He had come here to answer exactly that kind of question after all. Well, answer… to try at least.

"It's rarely that bad, Commander. And I try to kill as rarely as I possibly can. But, yes, up to a point you get used to it. The vision of dead bodies at least. And then you also never do. You try never to. It's not something I have ever been or ever will be comfortable with. You did what you had to to save yours and the Captain's life. There wasn't much else you could have done. And I do know this doesn't change much but it does matter."

Trip nodded. _And I'll bloody well make sure you don't have to make that kind of a choice again, at least I'll try_ , thought Malcolm. Protecting the crew was his job, and he was ready to deal with the consequences, to kill, or to be killed, both were part of the job description as far as he was concerned."I... I think I'll need something a bit stronger than milk tonight" said Trip.

Malcolm nodded his assent, and Trip got a bottle out. The bourbon was some low quality stuff, burning as it went down. Malcolm offered to watch a movie, and they did, and old thing with enough badly choreographed fight scenes and explosions to annoy Malcolm's professionalism, even bringing a smile to Trip's eyes. Once the movie was over, Malcolm left for his quarters. Trip was already nodding off.

"Good night, commander"

"Good night, Malcolm. Thanks"

"Anytime, sir" then at the engineer's glare. "Trip"

"See, not so hard."

Malcolm huffed. The door to Trip's quarters closed.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey folks,
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this little story, feel free to come and talk to me in the comments. I wasn't sure how to rate or tag this, please tell me if I missed something. 
> 
> And, thanks volley for writing the story that inspired this one and letting me play with it, hope it isn't too bad. 
> 
> Take care, live long and prosper, folks
> 
> Toinette, out.


End file.
